Art R' Us
by Red Witch
Summary: The Figgis Agency decides to break into the art world. Odds are they'll probably break it.


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is hanging around a museum somewhere. This takes place the day after the events of The Bodyguards.**

 **Art R'Us **

"All right everyone I'd to call a meeting," Cyril called the Figgis Agency into the bullpen. "First of all, I'd like to discuss the events of the past two days…Mainly I **never** want to hear about what happened! After this meeting I **don't** want to talk about it! I don't want to **hear** about it! It will be like it **never happened**! Got it?"

"In other words," Ray sighed. "The same old, same old?"

"Pretty much," Cyril sighed. "Now before I banish this particular memory into the darkest recesses of my mind…Which I must tell you all that real estate is getting rather crowded…Krieger how much money did we get selling what we…acquired?"

"Looted from the dead," Ray corrected.

"A couple grand," Krieger grinned.

"Good," Cyril said. "That is going to go into the agency's funds so we can keep this business going."

"And cause some **new disasters** ," Ray added. "Which will **also** never be talked about again."

"Ray…" Cyril groaned.

"Has a point," Lana spoke up. "California was supposed to be a new beginning for all of us. Instead it's turned into the same insane shit show it was when we were spies. And we can't keep this up forever!"

"None of us can keep this up forever," Pam said. "I mean it's only a matter of time since the authorities will connect the dots."

"Especially since our prints are on file with the Los Angeles Police department," Ray added.

"That's the **other purpose** of this meeting," Cyril said. "To find a new way for this agency to make money. Preferably a **legal** way."

"Do you have any suggestions?" Lana asked.

"Well, a lot of detective agencies sell burglar alarms and security systems to pay the bills," Cyril explained. "We could have Krieger make…And that is such a **bad idea** I can't believe I almost went for it."

"What?" Krieger said. "It wasn't **that bad!"**

"Yes, it was," Ray said.

"Have you forgotten that I installed the security systems back when we were a spy agency?" Krieger asked.

"Have you forgotten how many times that security system was **bypassed**?" Pam snapped.

"Like those kidnappers," Cheryl realized. "And those storm ninjas that turned out to be the FBI but then they turned out to be the CIA!"

"That Cuban hit squad," Ray added. "Barry!"

"Those thieves that cleared out the armory," Lana said. "And then the guy we hired to run the armory cleared out the armory!"

"Who is ironically doing much better than we are," Ray groaned. "Maybe he's hiring and we can go work for him?"

"Go work for an **international arms dealer**?" Lana barked.

"Lana, we once worked for the **CIA** and **Mallory Archer** running a **cocaine cartel** ," Ray snapped. "Not like we have the moral high ground here!"

"Although that does give us experience," Cheryl said. "We can put that on our resume."

"Sure," Cyril said sarcastically. "We can put that right under taking over the country of San Marcos and committing **treason**!"

"And let's not forget the nerve gas in the vents," Pam added.

"Oh, dear God," Lana groaned. "I **forgot** about the nerve gas in the vents!"

"So did I," Krieger blinked.

"What?" Lana looked at him.

"I forgot to disconnect them when we…Never mind," Krieger gulped.

"You didn't disconnect the nerve gas, did you?" Lana groaned.

"To be fair I didn't get a **chance to!"** Krieger protested. "We got kicked out and our agency was taken over by the CIA after the whole Drastic Voyage incident!"

"Is **that** what we decided to call that incident?" Cyril asked.

"You gotta admit it fits," Ray shrugged.

"Okay so we need to sell **something** ," Cyril said. "Besides stolen goods, which we have. Drugs, which we tried to. And alarm systems which is just **not going to happen**. So, think! Think! What **else** could we sell?"

Krieger began to speak. Cyril interrupted him. "Not the Krieger Springs Water Scam or Sex Robots!"

Krieger frowned. "They're not **exclusively** sex robots. That's just a perk."

"Anybody but **Krieger** make a suggestion," Cyril groaned. "Please!"

"How about we become an escort service?" Pam asked.

"NO!" Everyone else shouted.

"In **this** market?" Cheryl scoffed.

"In this **town?** " Krieger snorted. "Yeah good luck with that!"

"Okay," Cyril sighed. "Anyone **but** Pam and Krieger come up with an idea."

"Well…" Ray paused. "What if we got into the art business?"

"I'm listening," Cyril said.

"Now I'm not saying one of us could be the next Picasso or anything like that," Ray said. "But what if we tried making a bunch of artwork and selling it? At the very least it's worth a shot."

"That's not a completely insane idea," Lana said. "Have you **seen** some of the modern art out there? I swear AJ could do a better job finger painting."

"That's because you don't understand art," Pam said.

"I understand a rip off when I see one!" Lana challenged.

"That does seem to be our specialty," Krieger said.

"Let me get this straight," Cyril blinked. "Your idea of getting away from the usual schemes and scams that this office runs is by coming up with an _art fraud scam?"_

Ray looked at him. "Cyril at least **ninety percent** of the art world are scam artists, fakes, frauds, phonies, or critics that judge people with more talent than they have. And they leech off of or imitate the **ten percent** that has **actual talent**!"

"In some cases," Pam spoke up. "They try to suppress the real artists because the fake ones pay better."

"And it's not technically a scam," Krieger said. "Art is subjective."

"Remember that blank painting from San Marcos?" Pam spoke up. "The one Calderon bought for forty million dollars? Which I highly suspect was nothing more than a blank canvas all along?"

"You can't tell me **that** wasn't a fraud of some kind," Ray said.

"Look at the Mona Lisa," Krieger added. "It wasn't always hailed as a masterpiece until the 1860's when some critics claimed it to be a classic. And some thieves stole it to make knockoffs of it."

"You know this might actually work…" Cyril thought.

"Are you sure about this?" Lana asked. "I mean it's one thing to criticize art but…"

"Come on Lana!" Cyril said. "Art is about being **creative!** And let's face it, this group is full of the most creative people I know! So what harm could it do to at least try? If we fail, fine! It's another stupid failed plan! But at least this time we will be using our talents to **create** instead of destroy!"

Lana paused. "You're right. God help me Cyril but you're right."

"You wanted something different," Krieger said. "This is it."

"Hang on," Lana realized something. "Okay say we do make a bunch of art. Where the hell are we going to display it? Or sell it? It's not like we have a gallery or anything."

"I think we know someone who does," Pam said as she looked at Cheryl.

"Who?" Cheryl asked.

"YOU!" Pam snapped.

"Ohhh…" Cheryl blinked. "Do I? I gotta check!"

"Our plan now hinges on **Cheryl** …?" Lana paused. "Uh oh…"

"We can work with this," Cyril sighed.

"Are you sure?" Lana pointed to Cheryl. "Because **this one's** track record isn't that great."

"Look let's just get the art part done first," Pam said. "We can worry about marketing later."

"Marketing for **art?** " Lana asked.

"Wow you really don't get art, do you?" Ray asked.

"I am seeing **another flaw** in this plan," Cheryl pointed at Lana.

"You know…?" Lana glared at Cheryl.

Later that day…

"I'm an artist!" Pam laughed. She was only wearing a pink two-piece bathing suit and rolling around on a canvas covered in paint. "Hey! Maybe I can apply for a federal grant!"

"Good thinking Pam!" Cyril was painting something on a canvas. "I'd forgotten about federal grants!"

"That in itself is a scam," Lana admitted. She had brought in AJ and put her down next to some paints and a canvas on the floor.

"Lana what are you doing?" Ray asked, looking up from his painting.

"I've decided to outsource," Lana said sarcastically. "Here you go AJ. Paint whatever you want on the canvas! Have fun!"

"YAY!" AJ gleefully took some paint and started to paint with both a paintbrush and her hands.

"Honestly Lana," Cheryl was posing wearing a red dress and holding a Tommy gun. "That's a pretty smart move considering your lack of art knowledge. Guys don't forget to add the real fire and some explosions in my picture."

"Uhh…" Lana did a double take.

"It's not loaded," Ray told her. "We made sure."

"Why…?" Lana asked.

"She insisted," Ray sighed.

"I'm a muse!" Cheryl grinned.

"And I'm **amused**!" Pam quipped.

"So am I," Lana noticed something and pointed to Cyril's painting. "By that."

"What?" Cheryl asked.

"Oh, dear God," Pam groaned when she saw it.

"What?" Cyril asked.

"It looks like a demented three-year-old drew it," Lana said. "AJ could do better!"

Ray looked at AJ painting. "She is…"

"What?" Cheryl snapped. "Let me see that!" She turned around and looked at the painting. "Is that supposed to be **me**?"

"It's not bad for a guy who's never even been to art class!" Cyril snapped.

"It's bad for a guy who doesn't even have arms," Ray said. "And has to paint with his foot."

"We could always say it was done by a monkey," Pam said.

"Monkeys have more talent than that," Krieger remarked. "How about a dog?"

"Oh yeah like Ray is…" He then saw Ray's painting. "God damn…"

"What?" Cheryl went to see Ray's painting. "Oh my God! It's perfect!"

"Yeah I added some fire in the background to light your hair up a bit more," Ray said.

"God damn that's a good painting," Lana whistled.

"Very realistic," Pam said.

"I can practically smell the fire," Krieger added.

"Cyril no offense," Ray said. "But your greatest talent is cooking the books. I'm not saying that's not an art in itself…"

"Wow! Ray that's amazing!" Cheryl gasped. "I look awesome! Is this what the Mona Lisa felt like when that Ninja Turtle painted her?"

"I don't know," Pam said. "It may be too commercial to exhibit."

"You have a point," Ray said. "I'll have to do another one."

"Ray I'll give you two hundred dollars for this painting," Cheryl squealed.

"Done," Ray shrugged. "Maybe I should do some still life?"

"Speaking of which," Krieger took out a remote control. "Let me show you my art project?" He pushed a button.

A skeletal figure of a pig painted green walked out. "I call it Green Ham With Legs," Krieger smiled.

"Well that's just weird," Cyril blinked.

"Yeah but weird shit like this is in now," Cheryl said.

"Yeah these guys are the ponies to bet on," Pam pointed to Ray and Krieger. "Although what AJ is doing looks pretty good."

"Fine!" Cyril threw down his paintbrushes. "I'll just do the managing! You guys do the creating! Which reminds me I think I should check and see what art grants are available and how we can apply for them."

"See, that's where **you're** most creative," Pam said encouragingly. "Not that it's a bad thing."

"That reminds me," Lana spoke up. "Where are we going to display this art once we've done it?"

"I've figured it out," Cheryl grinned. "Turns out the Tunt corporation owns an art gallery. In San Francisco!"

"Isn't that where you left your heart?" Ray quipped.

"We take one of my trains to San Francisco and spend the weekend there at the Tuntabello Hotel," Cheryl said. "Easy peasy."

"What about AJ?" Lana asked. "I can't leave her with a sitter all weekend."

"You can always ask Ron to come with us and he can watch her," Pam suggested. "And spend your downtime with AJ."

"Or just stay home," Cheryl said. "I don't really care."

"I'll ask Ron," Lana glared at Cheryl.

Pam noticed something. "Wow AJ is really going to town on that painting. But should she really be licking the brush?"

"I got non-toxic paints," Lana groaned. "AJ!"

"HA! HA!" Cheryl giggled. "Stupid baby!" She then pulled out a bottle of glue and began to sniff it.

Fast forward to Saturday in San Francisco…

"I'm glad we did this," Lana said. She was wearing a red dress sipping champagne with Ray at a spacious art gallery. "AJ loved going to the park and seeing the bridge."

"I loved going to a few nice little bars," Ray grinned as he sipped his champagne. "So, Ron and his new girlfriend are watching AJ?"

"Yup," Lana said. "They had the afternoon to themselves. Cheryl gave them one of the nicest suites in her hotel. And free room service for the night."

"Why would Cheryl…?" Ray stopped. "To totally screw with Ms. Archer."

"Yeah try to keep Ron's new girlfriend on the down low," Lana groaned.

"I'm not gonna say a thing," Ray said. "I like my mustache just where it is."

"So who set everything up?" Lana motioned to all the art in the room.

"Mostly Cheryl and Krieger," Pam said as she walked over. She was wearing a stylish blue outfit and sunglasses. "She had her people do it."

"I thought we were her people now," Ray remarked. "And what's with the getup Sunglasses at Night?"

"I'm an art- **tise!** " Pam enunciated the word. "I have a mystique to cultivate."

"Not much of a mystery considering your artwork," Ray remarked.

"Yeah I figured splattering my naked body with paint and on canvas was much better," Pam said. "Wearing that bathing suit was just censoring myself."

"Thank you for at least warning me before you did that," Lana groaned. "So, I could get AJ out of there."

"We brought her painting too," Ray said. "Figured it was worth a shot. Money's money. This is so exciting! I never thought I'd show my art in a gallery."

"It's mostly pictures of flowers and fruit," Pam said. "Oh wait…"

"I was going for commercial appeal," Ray gave her a look. "If I do well then I can go into my experimental phase."

"Well you are the expert on **that,** " Pam quipped.

"Ditto," Ray said to her. "Speaking of experiments. Cheryl decided to do some art projects of her own."

"Where?" Lana looked around.

"Over there," Ray pointed. "See all those photos of fire?"

"Oh yes," Lana said.

"And she did some drawings too," Pam added.

Lana did a double take. "Are those drawing supposed to be **us?"**

"She basically took her flipbook characters and made them bigger," Pam groaned. "But that's not all. She says that she's incorporating some performance art for the critics."

"Cue the fire extinguishers," Ray quipped. "Where are the fire extinguishers?"

"Over by Krieger and his Swine Collection," Lana showed them. "Wait what's Cyril doing?" She pointed to a group of people with Cyril.

"Cyril's in charge of trying to sell our art," Pam said.

"Does Cyril know a **nything** about selling art?" Lana realized.

"He didn't know anything about selling cocaine," Ray shrugged. "Or taking over a country. He was pretty good at the latter."

"Now," Cyril was addressing a small group of people. "This is an exclusive showing of some of the newest art on the market. Some I agree is a bit controversial. Others are a bit more commercial. This art can be shown in either galleries or private collections. Take a look around. See what speaks to you and hopefully we can come to a price that's fair."

"That painting over there looks interesting," A man spoke up and pointed to AJ's painting. "It would look good in my restaurant."

"Make me an offer," Cyril said quickly.

Meanwhile Krieger was showing off his artwork to a group of people. "This is the perfect representation of Man's complicated relationship with not only machine, but nature! Show them Robo-Piggly!"

Robo-Piggly danced around. "Banal," One man sniffed.

"Not quite what we are looking for," Another man said.

"Hang on," Lana said as she walked over with Pam and Ray. "A robot pig is banal? Since _when_?"

"Clearly you know nothing about art," A man sniffed.

"Actually, for once Lana has a point," Pam said. "Who are you people?"

"We're with the Federal Grant Commission for the Arts," The first man explained.

"So, you guys give out free money to artists?" Pam asked. "I'm an artist. Gimme!"

"Let's just cut to the chase," One woman waved. "Most of this isn't interesting to us. Either too banal or just not up to our standards. The only person here with a chance of receiving a grant is Ms. Tunt."

"Why **her?** " Pam asked. "Half of her stuff is worse than ours! It's just pictures of fire!"

"And some really ugly drawings," Krieger added.

"Because she's a Tunt," One man said. "And let's face it, the Tunt name will carry some weight and prestige."

"Let me get this straight," Pam was stunned. "You're planning on giving over fifty grand to somebody who's **already rich?"**

"Our tax dollars at work," Ray quipped.

"Well who are you to say who gets what money?" Pam asked.

"The politicians who hired us," The first man said. "Oh look Ms. Tunt's performance art is starting!" The went to go look at Cheryl's performance.

"I hope Cheryl burns this art gallery to the ground," Pam grumbled.

"Me too," Ray agreed.

"She's not going to…" Lana did a double take. "Where the hell did Cheryl get a flamethrower?"

Cheryl did have a flamethrower. And she was pointing it a Cyril's half-finished painting. "I call this. What Critics Do!" She grinned as she turned on the flamethrower.

"Uh oh…" Lana said.

"Already calling the fire department…" Ray had his phone.

Twenty minutes later…

"Did I call it or what?" Pam asked as the gang watched the fire burn the gallery completely.

"I knew this was coming," Lana sighed. "I knew it but I let it happen anyway. Why did I let it happen anyway?"

"Like you could have stopped it," Ray snorted.

"Should somebody stop **that?** " Cyril pointed.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!" Some of the critics were running for their lives from Robo-Piggly who was chasing them.

"Honestly," Lana shrugged. "They're getting what they deserve."

"That's what you get for calling Robo-Piggly banal," Krieger agreed.

"Why is it?" Cyril sighed. "Why is it whenever we try to do something completely different it ends up the **exact same result**? Mayhem, destruction and death!"

"Nobody died this time," Pam pointed out.

"Our art careers did," Lana corrected her.

"And some more of our dreams," Krieger sighed. "And a little bit of our dignity."

"We still **had** dignity?" Pam quipped.

"We're not going to be talking about this one either, are we?" Ray asked.

"No, we are not," Cyril sighed.

"For what it's worth guys I think our art was way better than what those stupid critics said," Cheryl said. "And what the hell do those dumb grant people know?"

"So, you didn't get the grant?" Ray asked nonchalantly.

"No," Cheryl pouted. "They said if I burned the American flag or some human excrement I would have gotten it! That's what you get for taking the high road!"

"After all that we get nothing," Pam groaned. "So much for our art careers."

"Actually, I was able to sell one painting," Cyril admitted. "I sold AJ's painting for a hundred dollars. To a guy who owns a restaurant. Said it would look good in his place."

"AJ's painting was the **only one** that sold?" Ray shouted as Cyril showed them the check. "Why does this not surprise me?"

"I **told** you," Lana said as she accepted the check. "A hundred dollars. I'm putting half of this in her college fund."

"And the other half?" Pam asked.

"Some new clothes," Lana groaned. "That kid is starting to grow like a weed."

"I keep telling you guys," Krieger said. "Art is subjective. Who knows what will be considered art thirty years from now?"

Thirty Years Later…

"Lot 34," A distinguished art seller told the gathering at the art auction. AJ's picture was displayed. "Abbiejean's Rhapsody. This amazing painting by an unknown artist is one of the post-modernist masters of the world. Do I hear the starting bid at two million dollars?"

"Two million," The art seller went on looking at the bids. "Do I hear 2.5? 2.5 thank you sir. Three million from the lady over there. Three point five! Four million! Do I hear…? What sir? Ten million! Ten million dollars! Sir? Twenty million! Twenty million dollars! Twenty-five million! Thirty! Forty! Forty-five million! Do I hear more than forty-five million? Going once…Going twice…Wait! Fifty million! Fifty million dollars! Going once, going twice! Sold to the lady with the red hat for **fifty million dollars!"**

"A little tidbit folks," The seller spoke up. "Would you believe that this priceless painting was originally sold for only a **hundred dollars**? It's unbelievable!"

In the back of the room was a very poised familiar looking young woman wearing a nice dress. "Unbelievable is the **word** for it," Abbiejean groaned. "Only **my family** could not only get me involved in an art scam, they'd get the **short end** of the deal! Thanks a lot **Mother!"**


End file.
